Chapter 1209 Meeting an old friend
Due to the ice age, news from St. Petersburg seemed to be transmitted particularly slowly
The Polish Governor-General Wenbetrovsky was a romantic poet-general at the time. When he first took office, he had a bad impression of Warsaw, where plague was rampant and people's livelihood was in decline.
But Poland has a profound heritage after all, and it is also closer to the core area of Europe. Culture and art blend here, and business and trade are carried out here. Its prosperity is simply not comparable to those bitter and cold places in Russia.
Taiwan Novel Network →𝖙𝖜𝖐𝖆𝖓.𝖈𝖔𝖒
Venbetrovsky soon fell in love with this city. In addition to his love for culture and art, money and beauty also attracted him.
It is not a fantasy to be awake and in power and drunk and lie on the knees of beauties. As the Governor-General of Poland, he has great power, life and death, and he is omnipotent. Here he is the Tsar.
Wilanów Palace is known as the Versailles of Poland.
The first ray of sunlight in the morning shone through the veil onto the man's face. Wen Betlovsky casually pushed away his mistress who was sleeping soundly, walked down the couch and came to the desk, and poured himself a glass of bull's blood.
The bright red wine was as charming as blood, and the sweet and clear taste flowed down his throat. He let out a long breath and looked at the empty wine glass in a trance.
(Bull's blood, a kind of wine, can be regarded as the Red Bull of the 19th century. Anyway, they are all brands of the same country.)
At this time, a gentle and pleasant voice, like a lark in the morning, sounded.
"My lord, do you want to take a bath first or eat first?"
Wen Betlovsky did not answer, but took off his golden silk nightgown, threw it to the exquisite maid, and pushed open the door of the room.
The maid seemed to have been accustomed to it for a long time. She took the robe quickly and folded it quickly, then walked out of the room quickly.
"My Lord, we need to have breakfast in the bathroom. Please prepare it immediately!"
The whole palace began to get busy. When Venbetrovsky walked into the room, the huge "Haman" was already filled with mist.
A dozen maids in silk clothes had been waiting for a long time. Their thin clothes were wet by the steam, showing their plump, delicate, or petite figures.
"Ave, my Lord."
(Ave, Latin, means welcome, and respectful.)
Venbetrovsky walked straight to the bath without even looking. The maids carefully made way. When the governor lazily leaned against the edge of the marble carving, a maid came in with cheese, grapes, bananas, lamb, caviar and other delicacies.
Trays with various delicacies were floating on the water. Venbetrovsky casually pointed to a plate of grapes and a maid immediately went into the water and put the peeled grapes into his mouth.
Although it is just a small grape, it is not easy to eat it in this cold winter. Since there is no freezer, ice can only be used to cool it down.
The most important thing is that these grapes need to be transported from tropical areas. At this time, only the Austrian Empire can quickly transport goods from the coast to the inland.
The grapes will be loaded on the train from Venice to Lviv, and then transported to the Russian-Austrian border by the fastest carriage, and then sent to Warsaw. This small grape is more expensive than the same weight of silver.
(Haman refers to Turkish baths, which were very popular in Europe in the 18th and 19th centuries.)
Venbetrovsky is very satisfied with his current life. He casually pulled out a document from an oil paper bag, took a casual look at it, and was shocked. He got up and ran to the office in a hurry.
It’s just that Venbetrovsky’s luck is not good. Unfortunately, he slipped halfway.
Spring has not yet arrived, and most areas of Russian Poland are still covered with ice and snow. Pedestrians on the streets of Lodz town hurried past in the wind and snow, which is a bit unreasonable, but no one cares.
In the Cathedral of the Holy Angels, Father Alexander was presiding over a prayer ceremony. The old church was packed with people, and the heavy breathing made people feel a little warm.
But there were still children crying with hunger. This was the industrial center of Russian Poland, which brought countless wealth and goods to Russia every year, but the lives of the Poles here were no different from those in other Russian Polish regions.
The young mother's shriveled chest had no milk at all. She could only hold the thin baby tightly against her chest. The child seemed to feel at ease because of the mother's heartbeat.
At this time, Father Alexander came over, looked at the child, and then looked at the young mother. He didn't ask why, because he had heard too much in the confessional.
Father Alexander brought a bottle of warm milk and a piece of black bread, and then tore off the cross on his chest.
"Child, give it to you."
"But Father, this..."
The young mother hurriedly declined, but Father Alexander was firm and handed the cross to the former.
"You need it more than I do. God will forgive us. Amen."
The young mother did not refuse, but immediately hid it carefully for fear that it would be taken away.
In fact, the people around were somewhat jealous, but Father Alexander had a very high status in this small parish, and no one wanted to offend the public at this time.
Suddenly, the door of the church was opened, and the cold wind instantly attracted everyone's attention. The one who opened the door was a young man, who was also pale and thin, and shivering, but his voice sounded like thunder in everyone's ears.
"Father! It's bad! The Russian government requires us Poles to convert to Orthodoxy!"
Father Alexander was shocked. He took two steps back unconsciously and almost dropped the Bible in his hand.
"How is it possible!"
"The Russians can't do this to us!"
"It must be those Russian officials who deceived His Majesty the Tsar!"
"Yes! We must let His Majesty the Tsar know our grievances! We can't let those officials do whatever they want!"
The church was in chaos, but most Poles still subconsciously believed that those Russian officials were making trouble.
Father Alexander finally sat down in front of the pulpit with the help of several townspeople.
"Don't panic, don't make a fuss, go home first, God will bless us."
After the priest said this, the townspeople didn't continue to make trouble or go to the streets to argue with the Russians, but they didn't seem to have any intention of leaving.
Father Alexander immediately realized the problem and said to the deacon.
"Distribute the Eucharist to everyone. Give more."
After calming the townspeople, Father Alexander walked to the back hall of the church.
"How long are you going to pretend to be a good person? You are a Polish traitor and a running dog of the Austrians."
A cold voice came from the shadows. Father Alexander was stunned for a moment, and then the kindness in his eyes disappeared immediately, and it seemed that even his old and frail figure became straighter.
"Landre Promi! If it weren't for your ambition, how could we fail at the last moment?
Is this another good thing you did? Are you unwilling to let Poland, a nation that has suffered so many disasters, go?"